Face Down
by Lara-Van
Summary: Daphne Millbrook and Peter Petrelli are best friends. Peter is concerned about Daphne's boyfriend, and tries to intervene. Two hearts are broken in the aftermath; will they ever be healed? Kind of a bad summary, but this is just a oneshot. Please read!


**A Note From Lara: This fic was originally inspired by the song Face Down by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, but it sort of branched into a whole playlist on my iPod. And now I've finally gotten up off my butt and wrote it as a birthday present to myself (Yay! Today's my birthday!). And I've included the songs from the playlist at the page breaks, since that was easier than adding it to my [already way too long] profile.**

**What you need to know: This is totally and completely AU, I guess sort of around the time the first season would have started in canon. And I decided to write it in the present tense. I don't know quite why, but it just seemed to flow better that way. One more thing: A lot of you would say that it's out of character for Daphne to stay with an abusive boyfriend, since she's so good at running away. But my cousin's wife, who is extremely like Daphne in personality, was in a very abusive relationship before meeting my cousin (whose name happens to be Peter, incidentally), and by her account, manipulative guys like that can convince you that they're the only person who'll ever love you, the only person who's good for you... and even the strongest woman can be broken by a man like that.**

--Watching You- Rogue Traders--

The lights strobe across the dance floor as Daphne Millbrook sits at the bar, sipping her martini and enjoying her freedom. A heavy beat throbs through the club, dragging her away from her drink and into the crowd of dancing bodies. It's impossible to resist. She's never been dancing before, but somebody told her that L.A. was the place to go clubbing, and on a whim she decided to try it out.

The hem of her loose silver shirt swirls across her tight black leggings, and her collection of thick bracelets clink together as she loses herself in the music. An incredible sense of freedom spreads through her as she blends into the crowd of people. This was what she was waiting for, all those years in the old farm house.

Daphne realizes quickly that she's a very good dancer- not that she expected anything less. She's good at most things, without the braces. And she realizes another thing, as well. Every man in the place is watching her as she moves across the room.

A feeling of empowerment awakens in her. She feels strong, in control. As the eyes follow her, she begins to realize that she could have any one of these men in a moment. But does she really want that? Maybe. It would be an experience, something she's never done before, at the very least. And as wonderful as her life is now, she has to admit that it's lonely.

She catches the eye of a handsome, heavier man watching her from the bar area. She abandons dancing and approaches him. "Hi," she says casually. "I'm Daphne."

He almost smiles at her. "I'm Matt."

--Ready to Fall- Rise Against--

_One Year Later..._

Peter Petrelli stands on the rooftop, arms outstretched. As he prepares to take the final leap, he thinks back over the events of the past few days.

_He had left the city after that horrible car accident. It was two days after he had gotten his nursing degree, and he, Nathan, Heidi, and the boys were taking a trip to the Hamptons for the weekend to celebrate. But it was raining, and the road was slick. Nathan lost control of the car... _

_Peter had been the only one to survive. The remnants of the Petrelli family couldn't survive the tragedy. Barely three weeks after the accident, Arthur had committed suicide. Racked by guilt, Peter fled the city to recover himself. Only now had he returned to the city, after almost two years absence, to discover that the woman he loved had given up on waiting for him to return. Simone had a new boyfriend now. Isaac Mendez, some artist from the South Side._

_Ordinarily, he would have been able to let it go and move on. But Isaac was into drugs and wild partying. He had dragged Simone in with him, and when Peter first saw her, he hardly recognized her. Gone were her soft curls and gone was her quiet manner. They had been replaced by dreadlocks and a hard-eyed stranger. He blamed himself. He had left New York two days after her father had died, and the loss of the two most important people in her life must have been more than she could handle. He had tried to reason with her, but she had angrily blown him off, driving away with Isaac. Barely three hours later, he had gotten a panicked phone call from the painter, begging him to come quickly._

_He had rushed to the address, but arrived too late. Simone had overdosed on crystal meth, and she died in his arms. There was nothing he could do._

And so now he's up here, on this ledge. What's the point anymore? Maybe he could have borne it, all the tragedy that he couldn't quite leave behind, if it weren't for his mother. When he went to visit her after Simone's death, she had simply stared at him sadly, and mumbled things that made no sense. Peter is alone in the world, truly alone.

He glances up at the sun, hidden almost prophetically by the shadow of the moon. As the last sliver of warm sunlight disappeared, he turns his face downward once again. It's time to let go. He leans forward...

"What are you doing?" a woman's voice demands. Distracted, Peter whirls around. A petite blonde is sitting on a ventilation shaft, legs crossed. As he watches, she stands, moving with an unconscious grace that's beautiful to watch. "Seriously," she says. "Yeah, life sucks, but you just have to push through it. Hurling yourself off a building isn't the way to deal."

Something about the sound of her voice and the expression in her dark eyes makes him ashamed that he was going to end it all. He's even begun thinking of his resolution in the past tense, just within twenty seconds of conversation with this woman. "I wasn't going to kill myself," he says defensively.

She cocks her head to one side, a tiny knowing smile on her lips and merriment in her dark eyes. "Oh yeah?" she says. "Sure looked like it. What were you doing, if you weren't going to jump?"

"I didn't say I wasn't going to jump," he mutters petulantly. "I was trying to fly."

Her eyebrows climb upward, but she doesn't say anything. And in the silence, he realizes that maybe it's partially true. It was his great dream as a boy- to fly. Lately, ever since he stopped reliving the car crash in his head, he's begun having dreams of soaring above the city. It was really what prompted his return in the first place. So in a way, he told her the truth. Sort of. "Who are you?" he asks.

She grins and extends her hand. "I'm Daphne."

He takes her hand. "My name's Peter."

--Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?- The Offspring--

It's been five months, and Peter can't even remember what life was like before Daphne Millbrook came smashing into it. She quickly became his closest friend and confidante. Well, technically his only one, since he severed all his connections and abandoned all his friends after the accident. They're friends- best friends. And that's all, which is beginning to be less than enough for Peter. He's very afraid that he's falling for her. The way she laughs so easily; how she always has a wry comment to make on anything and everything; the way she can convey a sentiment so much deeper than words with a single look; the quiet strength he doubts most people see in her. She's an old soul, and yet so energetic and new in so many ways it confounds him.

Shortly after the day they met, he began to manifest powers, and confided in her. He told her how it had started with Isaac, and his predictive paintings, and Nathan's illegitimate daughter who had come to the city in search of her family for answers to her regenerative power. He told her about how he seemed to absorb the ability of anyone he came into contact with. Daphne in turn revealed her ability of superspeed to him. Eventually, she also confided the truth about her past to him. She has cerebral palsy, but her ability keeps it from affecting her. But until her speed manifested, she lived alone with her father on a small farm in Montana.

They had traveled all over the world together. They had gone to Tokyo and helped a time traveler save the city from a mass riot. He had shown her the deserts of New Mexico where he had spent so much time before returning to New York. She had taken him to Paris and shown him the apartment she used to live in before she moved in with her boyfriend.

The boyfriend... yes, the enigmatic Matthew Parkman is the only dark spot in their friendship. Daphne has only good things to say about him, and will defend him vehemently whenever she senses Peter is trying to cast him in a less than glowing light. Peter's met him a time or two; whenever their travels take them in the area of Las Angeles, they stop by. He's a police officer, which normally would make Peter respect him. But whenever he's in the room, Peter just gets this... creepy feeling from him.

Peter tries to tell himself that it's just jealousy... which it partly is. But as much as he insists to himself that that's _all_ it is, something in the back of his head says otherwise.

It also doesn't help that the very first time they were in the same room together, both of them were slammed with a huge amount of mental feedback and the resulting killer migraines. Apparently Parkman can read minds, and when Peter absorbed his ability, the result was something like putting a microphone directly against a speaker.

Peter tries to keep his thoughts to himself now, but he knows that occasionally something breaks through the mental barriers he puts up in Parkman's presence.

Matt is always very jovial and seems like a nice guy whenever Peter's in his company, but Peter isn't entirely sure that he's always so. Daphne has bruises, for a start.

At first, he buys her excuses of having tripped or bumped into something. But once he realizes that her power keeps her permanently graceful and makes it nearly impossible for her to trip, he begins looking closer. He quickly realizes that she usually has a spattering of small bruises up and down her arms, with fresh ones appearing every few days. Once she shows up with a black eye she thought she had concealed beneath makeup, but he sees. It isn't until she started wearing turtlenecks- not her usual style- that he really becomes concerned. Because he catches a glimpse beneath the sweater and realizes that she has marks on her neck that looks like someone has throttled her repeatedly. It confirms what he's suspected for some time- Parkman is beating her.

He drops subtle hints, trying to let her know that he's here for her, that she can open up to him. But she never does.

--Savior- 30 Seconds to Mars--

They've been friends for almost a year when she meets himat his apartment for lunch with her arm in a sling. And Peter has had enough of this. "Look," he says in frustration, "I can't keep pretending nothing is going on! You're constantly bruised up, and I know it's Matt doing it."

Daphne shakes her head. "No, it's--"

"Please, please don't deny it," he pleads with her. "You're better than this, Daphne. You deserve better than him."

He almost regrets speaking out at the look of desperation that comes into her stunning dark eyes. He can't bear to see her looking so despondent and sad. "He loves me," she says softly. "He really loves me, more than anyone ever has." It's not true, Peter knows. Because _he_ loves her, more than he thought he could ever love anyone. And Parkman can't possibly feel this way about her, because he would never treat her the way he does if he did. "How can I leave him? It would hurt him so much. Peter, you know me. You know that I've hurt everyone I ever cared about by running away. I'm trying to change, okay?"

"Not with him, Daphne," he says. "Please, not with him. He doesn't deserve you. If he hurts you like this, he _deserves_ to be left behind."

She shakes her head, not meeting his eyes, shutting him out. He can't stand it when she shuts him out... and it's been happening more and more often lately. "But if I don't have Matt, who else do I have?" she says.

The words cut through him like a knife. "You have me. I'm always going to be here for you, Daphne," he says, barely getting the words out past a heart he thinks might be breaking.

"Maybe," she says, "But you can't be what Matt is to me. How could you? You think I'm weak, for being with Matt. You can't love me."

It breaks him, and before he knows what he's saying, the words come rushing out, everything he's been feeling these past months spilling from his lips. "Yes, I can! Daphne, I love you, so much you can't even imagine it. I have for as long as I've known. You're the only thing in my life that makes sense, and I don't even think I _have_ a life without you! I can't bear seeing you like this, trapped in this relationship that's so obviously not healthy, it's killing me. Trust your heart, Daphne, for my sake if nothing else. You know that Matt's bad for you."

As the words stutter to a halt, he realizes that her eyes have gone wide. She stares at him, a deer in headlights. Breathing hard, he meets her gaze, waiting on tenderhooks for whatever she's going to say. Finally, she blinks and looks away.

"You can't save me, Peter," she whispers. And then she's gone. He could follow- he's the only one who _can_ follow- but he doesn't. Instead, he leans back against his closed door, and slowly sinks to the ground, willing himself not to cry.

--Edge of a Broken Heart- Vixen--

She runs, and just keeps running, trying to make her feet match the pounding of her heart as she races across continents. She's pretty sure she's circled the globe at least twice, but it hasn't taken her long, and she still can't get what Peter said out of her mind.

No... no, this isn't right. Peter isn't in love with her. She can't accept that it's true, because accepting it means that everything she thought is wrong. _Matt_ loves her. That's the way things are supposed to be- so what if he sometimes gets mad at her and pushes her around a little? It's no big deal, she can handle it. But if _Peter_ loves her, then Matt's been lying to her. He's wrong, when he says that nobody can love her the way he can. And it means that the last two years of her life are based on a lie.

Finally, she stops running. She's not sure where she is- somewhere in the Himalayas, she thinks, from the snow- but she doesn't really care. She drops down in a snowbank and puts her head in her hands and sobs.

She would never break down where anyone could see, but here, completely isolated, she allows everything to catch up to her. Because no matter how far and fast she runs, the truth is always going to follow. Matt isn't right for her. Peter's right- he's no good. She can't deal with this anymore. And...

Peter loves her. Now that she thinks about it, lets it sink into her, it almost makes sense. The almost-not-there look she sees in his eyes whenever he looks at her. The way he's always so protective of her. How they became best friends practically from the start, they didn't even need to get to know each other to know that something there was just... right.

And it is. That's the problem. It's _too_ right. She can't let herself get attached again.

Trust your heart, Peter said. She's been denying what her heart always tells her to do for almost two years for now. It's time to do what she does best- run away too fast to get caught.

--Face Down- The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus--

Peter knocks on the door of the small apartment in Los Angeles. Parkman answers after a few moments, looking hungover and irritable. "Whaddaya want?" he mumbles.

"I want you to do right by Daphne, you sonofabitch," Peter says heatedly. "You push her around, and she just puts up with it, because she thinks you love her."

Matt doesn't say anything, simply narrows his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says after a long pause, reinforcing his words with a mental push to back them up.

Peter laughs bitterly. "You ought to know that won't work on me, Parkman!" he says. "Empath, remember?"

The telepath grinds his teeth together. "Girl needs to learn her place," he says harshly. "It's not my fault if she gets mouthy when I tell her to stay away from you."

The bottom drops out from Peter's stomach. "What?" he gasps. "What did you say?"

Matt smirked. "Most of the time she's a real good woman, except when it comes to you. I always tell her you're trouble, but she never listens. I gotta set her straight somehow, you know?"

Peter closes his eyes, steadying himself. This can't be true. It can't be. But it is. He can see into Parkman's head. Yes, he's hit her other times, for other reasons, but he can't deny that the vast majority of the memories of beatings are from times when she's defended him to Parkman. Oh god, it's all his fault...

He turns on his heal and flees, running all the way back to New York and then out across the Atlantic, searching for an escape from the horror boiling in his blood. He keeps running, and doesn't look back.

--The Mixed Tape- Jack's Mannequin--

_Two Years Later..._

Paris again. It's always Paris for her. The city defines her, in a way Daphne can't even begin to understand. No matter what she does, she always finds her way back here. She spent some time in Tokyo, of course, visiting her old friend Hiro. But Hiro is _his_ friend, too, and she didn't stay long, because she can't run the risk of seeing him.

It's been a strange two years. She never went back to see Matt. Just a note tacked to his fridge, and all of her belongings packed at superspeed. He was right, all along: Matt was no good for her. She was just glad she'd been brought to her senses in time- Matt was a big guy, he could have really hurt her if it had gotten more out of hand. But she's out of that now. Matt's not holding her back any more. But she's not free. She hasn't been free since that awful day when he told her how he really felt.

She hasn't seen him since, either. And it's killing her.

Every night, she sees his face in her dreams, beautiful, with those soulful brown eyes that always lit her up inside when they rested on her, and the long lock of raven hair that was forever falling into his eyes. And every night, she dreams that she's running, running so fast, for once not trying to run away, but running _towards_. Only, he's running too, and he's too fast for her to keep up. As he outdistances her and disappears over the horizon, she catches one last glimpse of his eyes, and the sadness there floods over her and pulls her into a dark place she can't get out of.

She wakes up after these hauntings, and finds her pillow wet with tears. Because he was right, and not just about Matt. About everything. He loved her, and she was too scared to let him in, and so she ran away. But she loves him, too. She can admit it to herself now. He was the one who always knew exactly what she was saying, even when she didn't make sense to herself. His crooked grin was the thing she looked forward to seeing most each day, even before she realized how she felt. The way he seemed to shine, even in his darkest moments, was inspiring to her.

And she threw it all away. She lost the most important person in her life because she was scared to take that leap of faith.

Crossing her room to her closet, she pulls out a small cardboard box she's never dared to open, though she always keeps it close, and takes it back to her bed. It's time.

The first thing she pulls out is one of his scarves. He loaned it to her when they were in Canada one day, and she never gave it back. It's red and soft, and it smells like him, even after all this time. She bites her lip, trying to hold onto her composure.

She goes through item after item, memories flooding through her, days that she'd half-forgotten in the intervening years. The pressed daisy from the afternoon they spent just wandering around Central Park. The book she had bought, intended to be his birthday present, but was never gifted because she ran away before she could give it to him. And there, at the bottom of the box, is a framed picture. It's just the two of them at Coney Island. She's laughing at something, staring off into the distance. His arm is around her shoulder, and he's smiling so happily he almost glows. At the sight of his face, the floodgates open and Daphne breaks down. She hurls the picture across the room, hearing the glass shatter, as for what feels like the millionth time, she sheds tears over Peter Petrelli.

God, how did she get to this point? She was never one for crying, not even as a baby according to her father, but even the thought of what she'd given up brought up a wellspring of misery every time. It's ridiculous. And it's time to stop running. She has to find him.

--Viva la Vida- Coldplay--

He's living in Vegas now. As he returns to the apartment he's been renting for the last couple of months, Peter chuckles darkly to himself. How did it come to this? Well, he could easily blame his mother for starting in motion the events that led to the government hunting down Specials. If she hadn't cooperated with Linderman to manipulate an innocent watchmaker from Queens, that selfsame watchmaker would never have taken the position of the president of the United States and caused all this destruction.

The world is darker now, and things are bordering on anarchy. Riots in the streets, and the raids, and the bombings... Supposedly the rest of the world isn't much better, because once the news about metahumans was out, it was out. But the U.S. is the worst, because Sylar is running operations there. Peter and his team have a hard enough time dealing with things in America to worry about the rest of the world just yet. Hiro's got the eastern hemisphere contained for the most part.

He, Ted, and the triplets- Niki, Tracy, and Barbara- have just returned from their latest unsuccessful mission to take down Sylar. Just thinking about the intuit's smirk as he revealed that he and his psycho electric First Lady are still holding Claire captive makes the hum of radiation rise all throughout Peter's body. Quickly he brings himself under control.

Peter throws his black coat over an armchair, and stares into the mirror hanging on the otherwise bare wall. A deep scar slashes across his face, and his eyes are harder now than he cares to think about.

Most of it's from the war, but not all. The rest of the darkness in him comes from another source entirely- a source that has a name and a face and a smile that can light up his whole world if he ever sees her again. But she's gone. She ran away and she's not coming back. Hiro saw her in Tokyo a few months back, but didn't know where she'd gone from there. She's gone for good. He has to accept it. He _has _to move on.

But he knows that telling himself that isn't going to do any good. She's still right there, a permanent resident in his heart. He loves her, even though she's gone. That's one thing that will never change.

The door hinges creak and Peter whirls, electricity clutched in his palms. But the sparks die away as he stares in shock at the woman standing there. It's Daphne, looking just as he remembers her, with the spiky blonde hair and the dark eyes that can keep him locked in place with a single look.

"I came back," she says quietly. He nods, unable to speak. They stand in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, just staring at each other. Finally, she takes a single step inside the apartment. "Look," she says, "I... I was wrong. And I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

He smiles bitterly. "Apology accepted," he says, turning away. He has to harden his heart, because she's going to leave again. She always runs away; it's just how she is.

"Should I go?" she asks after another long silence. "I mean... you probably don't want me here." She takes a deep breath, forcing her face to stay in a carefully bland mask. Closure. That's all she came here for, for closure. She wasn't expecting anything else. Really. God, he looks so different. She barely recognizes him, with his hair slicked back and a scar across his face. But what frightens her is his eyes. Peter's eyes were always his defining feature, warm and gentle and absolutely loving, like windows right into his soul. If they still do reflect his soul, how can he possibly still be _Peter_? There's so much darkness there, and anger, and a depth of pain that she suspects is well-concealed from everyone but her. She knows him too well not to know when he's unhappy.

But at her words, he whirls back to her, his eyes suddenly flashing, all the deadness gone from them. "Of course I want you here!" he half-shouts. "I always _did_ want you here, but you never were! You left, and the whole world went to hell while you were gone!" He throws his hands into the air, gesturing wildly, and takes several steps toward her. "I never got over you, Daphne! You were the one thing that made my life worth living, and when you disappeared, I had to throw myself into saving the world, and that's all there is left now!"

"I'm so sorry," she says again. "I was... Peter, I was terrified. Because I'd just been in this relationship that was... destructive. And then there was you, and you said you loved me and it scared the hell out of me. I was so terrified to let anybody get that close again, because it would break me, and I just... didn't know what else to do, so I left." She laughs once, humorlessly, and turned her back on him, intending to walk out the door. "And it didn't do me a damn bit of good, either. I couldn't get away from you, no matter how fast I ran." She pulls open the door, prepared to walk away one last time, because that's what she has to do, for both their sanities.

She's stopped by his hand on her shoulder. "What are you saying?" he asks, his voice gentler than she's heard it so far in this conversation.

She bites her lip, praying that she can make it through the sentence without breaking down. "I'm saying that somehow I fell in love with you," she says quietly.

He spins her around, meeting her eyes, and there's a depth of love and joy there she can't even comprehend. "Do you really mean that?" he asks huskily. She nods, and suddenly his lips are on hers, and the whole world disappears around her as heat burns through her body at his touch. "I love you, too," he whispers against her mouth. "I never stopped loving you." Daphne's heart aches with joy and elation and something else she can't even define as she responds enthusiastically to his kiss.

Peter pulls back for a moment, her face cupped between his hands, and he stares into her eyes in wonderment. He's almost tempted to pinch himself to make sure this is real. But somehow he knows it is. Daphne, his best friend, the love of his life, is back, and somehow she loves him too. Everything is alright again.

And even though they both know that the planet's a mess, that it's going to be years before anyone can put it right, in that moment, everything is okay. Because they're here together, and the pieces of their lives are starting to make sense again. And whatever the world throws at them, they can take it, because they have each other. And in a dark and dangerous world, that's all they can really ask for.

_FIN_

--

**Wow. I just reread that before posting, and I realized that this is way angstier than I intended it to be when I first started. But I still like the final product so I guess it doesn't really matter. Feedback is always appreciated, though. *hint hint hint!!***


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